...but if you like dancing

  This won't be long, but I just wanted to document your first prayer that you helped me pray for someone. Yesterday, we got the call that your grandmother...your Oma's mom wasn't going to be with us much longer. Your Oma asked if I could come pray for her. Of course...I would be there in a few.   You and I were able to pray a prayer of peace over her. We prayed a prayer of going home...of smooth transition.    I am so grateful that you were there. Even though she will never meet you or you her, this side of paradise, the love she has for you is so strong...as I will help you to grow to know and love her.  **Rest in peace, Nana** Wanna know one of the best parts? Just 2 days prior (3 days ago) we got to spend some time with her and she said that you were going to be perfect and everything was going to be okay with you. Comfort...it gave me comfort.

  I'll admit it was strange to hear, "You are, because of your age, considered high risk in your pregnancy." I think I knew it. I mean, I did, but I just didn't think it would be part of the very first conversations that I had with the doctor. "In December, you will be 35, so you need to consider getting tested for the chromosomal abnormalities that can come with an older aged mother."    Let's be honest, as much as I have NOT read about being pregnant, the one thing I did know was that I was old and I did understand what that could affect. I already wanted the test. I could have stopped her mid-sentence, but I had just seen the first pictures of you...I couldn't really think of much else. But, snapped back to reality, I wanted to take the test.   "I don't want to do the amniocentesis test, but I do want to get tested." She was quick to squelch that she doesn't encourage that test unless the blood test came back with an abnormality ...

  No matter how much I believed I was pregnant, there was always that voice screaming that it was all a farce. That the cosmos was playing some sick twisted joke on me and your dad. That small voice was always taunting, "You aren't really pregnant. This is just the ultimate hope riser. Just wait... none of this is real."   I think that is why I was so not eager to tell anyone about you. I fought so hard to keep the news to myself. I battled the thought of you so hard that I was bursting to tell the world, and also I so desperately wanted to hide away in a corner for the next 10 months and just wait till you actually showed up. At least then I would have no fear of you disappearing.   From the moment I took the pregnancy test (and got a positive), I knew the inevitable first doctor's appointment would come. In fact, what is usually the "first" appointment was conducted over the phone due to the COVID-19 pandemic (a WHOLE other issue.) I would have to wait...

  I think the disappointment has been too often and too great to truly appreciate the reality that is my life...at this very moment.   I am currently 7 weeks and 6 days pregnant. Pregnant...huh...pregnant... I still can't wrap my conscious brain around that word. I am...blank. I have no words, really. I am scared. I am worried. I am nervous. I am ecstatic. I am pregnant. I am pregnant!   It was March 13th that Tom flew. It was that day, your dad lost the one man who meant the world to him. I am so glad you didn't have to witness the pain he went through. Granted, I wish you could have met your grandfather, but it was hard to witness. I felt out of place. I left like I couldn't fix the heartache. It threw me back to when I lost your uncle Andy.   When we found out your grandpa was sick and had stage 4 lung cancer, my desire for you became so much stronger. I wanted him to hold you just once. One time if possible. If only to take the mundane and scariness of waiting...